


Peter's Guide to Accidental Astral Projection

by RowanSage



Series: Guidebook [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astral Projection, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanSage/pseuds/RowanSage
Summary: Peter felt dizzy.  His ears were ringing.  What the hell happened?  He sat up, groaning.  Someone had hit him in the chest, and then . . .?He looked around, and let out a yelp of shock, scrambling backwards on his hands and feet. There, staring back at him, was his own vacant face.Or Peter gets forcefully astral projected, and everyone thinks he's dead.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Guidebook [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979956
Comments: 19
Kudos: 457





	1. Not Peter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854524) by [madasthesea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madasthesea/pseuds/madasthesea). 



> Hey guys! Just a quick note, I am working on my other fics, especially my Harry Potter one. This is just a side project to keep me from getting writer's block. And yes I do have a thing for Spider-man angst (as long as there's a happy ending).

Peter felt dizzy. His ears were ringing. What the hell happened? He sat up, groaning. Someone had hit him in the chest, and then . . .? 

He looked around, and let out a yelp of shock, scrambling backwards on his hands and feet. There, staring back at him, was his own vacant face.

“What the hell!” He groaned. He pinched himself. It hurt, but barely.  _ What's going on? _

“Hey Peter, you okay, kid?” Mr. Stark's voice sounded from behind. Peter turned and scrambled to his feet.

“I’m okay! I think something weird is going on, though. There was this guy, and-”

“Peter?” Mr. Stark drew closer, but he wasn’t looking at him. Instead, his eyes fell on the body on the ground. His expression froze.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. “Can you hear me?”

“Oh God,” Mr. Stark choked. Stumbled forward. “Peter, are you-” His hands fumbled, finding the body’s shoulders. He shook them. It’s head lolled to one side, and Peter felt rather sick at the sight.

“Oh jeez,” Peter whispered. “That’s not me, Mr. Stark, I’m right-”

“Pete - _please-_ ” Peter had never heard Mr. Stark sound like this. Broken, terrified. He ripped off the body’s mask, and it’s eyes stared blankly upward. “Look at me Peter, _come_ _on_.”

“I’m looking at you!” Peter stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. It passed right through. Peter let out another half-yelp, half-shout, and leapt back.

“Oh my God,” He whispered hysterically. “I’m a  _ ghost _ .”

“Hey Tony! Battles over. Where are you and the kid?” Peter picked up on the faint voice on the comm, recognizing it to be Steve’s voice. Mr. Stark didn’t seem to notice. His face crumpled, and he pulled Peter’s head into his lap.

“Don’t do this to me, Pete, don’t do this,” He muttered, rocking the body back and forth. “Don’t leave me kid, please - shit -” And he began to sob. Wrenching, desperate, gasping sobs. His whole body shook, and he curled inward, like he was trying to protect Peter. Cries of alarm sounded over the comm, and Peter felt sick.

“I’m right here, Mr. Stark, see?” Peter waved a hand. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” Mr. Stark looked up, and for a moment Peter thought he’d heard. Then he heard Steve’s voice behind him and turned to see the haggard superhero running towards them from the nearby wreckage.

“Tony!” He shouted. “I’m here! What’s going on? Why are you-” He stopped, mouth snapping shut.

“He’s not breathing,” Mr. Stark said softly. “He’s not breathing, Cap. My kid’s not breathing.”

“No,” Steve breathed. He fell to his knees in front of them. “ _ Peter _ .”

“What’s this about Peter?” Clint’s voice came on over the comm. “Steve? Tony?” Neither man replied. 

“We gotta bring him back to the jet, Tony,” Steve murmured. “We have to go.  _ Tony _ .” Mr. Stark shook his head wordlessly, hugging the body close. Peter let out a sob.

“I’m right here, Mr. Stark. Please! I’m right here!” He gasped out. “Steve, I’m not-”

“I’ll carry him,” Steve said. Mr. Stark shook his head more violently, glaring at the super soldier.

“He’s my kid,” He growled. “I’ll do it.” He stood hefting the body into his arms. Peter stared at his own body, wondering at how small it looked. Steve turned away for a moment, tears shining in his eyes. Then he stepped forward, and he and Mr. Stark began walking back towards the Jet.

Peter followed them. He didn’t know what else to do.


	2. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's perspective on the event, plus some of the other Avengers find out. They get back on the quinjet to go back to the compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGGSTTT!!!! MUAHAHAHA

Tony’s head was buzzing. His throat felt tight. The world should be ending and yet . . . here he was. He felt absolutely numb as he looked down at the kid in his arms, the child in his arms - 

Bile rose in his throat.

_ Peter _ .

_ Why Peter? _

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even open his mouth to scream. He just kept walking, Steve in tow, like a twisted circus parade. He clutched Peter even tighter, feeling cold seep into his chest. He couldn’t let go.

“Tony!” Tony heard Clint’s voice, and dimly realized they were back at the quinjet. There was a shout, the sound of shattered glass. A low moan of pain. He didn’t look up. He just dragged himself up the ramp onto the jet, carefully making sure not to jostle Peter too much. Kid had school tomorrow, after all. The door closed, and he settled on one of the benches, still holding onto Peter.

“Not him, God, he’s _so_ _young-_ ” 

“What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know, it was Tony who found him-”

“Tony?” There was a light touch on his shoulder. Tony flinched back, still staring at Peter’s face. 

“Tony,” A different voice, lighter, gentle.  _ Clint _ . “We need to put him on the stretcher, okay? I know it’s hard- here, just let me-” Hands grabbed at Peter, and Tony growled, pulling him in tighter.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” He snarled. “He’s mine, he’s my- I have to protect him!”

“I know,” Clint choked. “God, I know, but he’ll be more comfortable there, okay? You can still hold his hand if you want.” Tony shook his head, but he loosened his hold all the same, allowing Peter to be laid out on the stretcher. Clint was careful, his face twisted, and Tony knew he was thinking about his own kids, what they might look like if they-

Tony retched, doubling over, hands clawing at his stomach. A bucket was shoved under his nose, but he shook his head violently, pushing it away.

“Don’t need it,” he said. “I’m fine.” He looked up for the first time, and saw Steve staring back at him, his own horror and helplessness reflected in the super soldier’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said softly. In the cockpit, Rhodey glanced back at them, hands knuckle-white on the steering wheel. Tony shook his head.

“I don’t wanna tell the others.” Tony’s voice was hoarse, but steady. “Banner, Nat, Bruce . . .”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed. “He could’ve gone on this mission instead of the kid, but he wanted to stay and train more. He’s probably gonna blame himself. Shit.” Under any other circumstance, Tony would tease him about the cursing, but this time he simply looked down, an ugly feeling in his gut. He reached out and grasped Peter’s hand where it dangled off the stretcher. He squeezed it, imagining the kid had just fallen asleep again during a Star Wars marathon.

A sniffle caught his attention, and Tony looked up. Clint’s face was streaked with tears, and he’d curled up in the corner of the jet, in a surprisingly childish posture. Steve crouched down in front of him and pulled him into his chest. Clint wrapped his arms around him, hands shaking. Tony sat alone, staring at the empty eyes of his only kid.

In the astral realm, Peter sat next to him, sobbing into his shoulder.


	3. Strange Occurances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others find out. Then Bruce finds out. Then Dr. Strange has a revelation for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody:
> 
> My Brain when I was working on this: tHE BIrDs WOrk FoR THe BOrGuEiSe!!
> 
> (Seriously, though, sorry for taking so long to finish this).
> 
> Russian translation at the end of the chapter.

The rest of the jet ride was quiet, subdued. Tony tried not to think about the way there, when Peter was chatting happily with Rhodey, talking about Star Wars. . . 

Now Steve was sitting in the passenger seat next to Rhodey, and from the look on his face, the hushed conversation they were having was anything but happy.

Tony sighed, and let his head fall back against the side of the jet. Clint stared straight ahead, eyes lost and strange. The comm beeped.

“Testing, testing, 1-2-3,” Natasha’s sardonic voice filled the dim contraption. Tony didn’t bother to look up, but Rhodey leaned forward and spoke.

“Copy,” He said hoarsely. “Prepare for landing. Quickly. We need to call a team meeting, so meet us on the landing.” There was a pause.

“Something went wrong.” It wasn’t a question, so no one answered. A sigh. “Alright. I’ll bring everyone up.”

“Except Bruce.” Tony spoke up. Clint gazed at him questioningly. Tony let his head fall to the side, and he stared at Peter’s calm, peaceful face. His hand was cold. “We don’t want him to hulk out. We need to explain it to him seperately.”

“I . . . okay.” Nat obviously wanted to ask, but decided against it. Tony envied her; she lived in a world where Peter still existed, where he was just a jet ride away; to her, he was probably laughing with Rhodey, or discussing history jokes with Steve. He let out a low sound, half-way between a groan and a whimper. No one looked at him.

In the astral realm, Peter was tired. He’d tried screaming, waving, jumping up and down, but nothing he did caught anyones attention, given them any hope that he was there, he was alive. Peter was starting to doubt it himself. Eventually, at the sight of Clint’s tears, he’d broken down, burying his face into the shoulder of the mentor he couldn’t touch.

“What’s happening?” He asked them once Nat finished talking. “Are we landing now? Please don’t tell the others I’m dead, I’m-I’m really not!” Unsurprisingly, he got no response. 

  
He felt the rumble of the jet as it landed. Everyone stood up, everyone except Tony.

“Hey,” Rhodey said gently. “C’mon. Let’s go inside.” Tony bit his lip and nodded, eyes still glazed. Rhodey wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Steve lagged behind, carrying Peter’s body. Clint was last to leave, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Peter felt a hopeless knot twist in his stomach; maybe he was dead after all.

“Tony?” Natasha asked. She had been waiting for them on the landing. “What is-” She stilled as she caught sight of Steve and Peter. Her mouth opened and closed for a moment. “ _Блядь_.”

“Let’s do this inside,” Clint said softly. “We need to get him inside.” Peter wasn’t sure if he was referring to Tony or him.

“Hey, Nat?” Peter tried one last time. “I’m right here!” Predictably, Natasha didn’t react. Peter sighed, shoulders slumped.

Steve walked up to Nat and muttered to her, “I’m gonna bring Pete down to medical, okay? I’ll meet you guys in the living room.” She nodded, face stone cold, and led Tony and Clint to the roof entrance while Steve took the elevator. Peter debated for a moment whether or not he wanted to follow his own body; would putting too much distance hurt him somehow? But he decided to follow Tony instead, in case they were somehow able to hear him.

They entered the living room, and Bucky looked up from the couch. He took one look at their drawn, weary faces, and stood, remote clattering to the ground. Peter could hear his heartbeat increase.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Bucky asked. “Where-where’s Peter?”

“You should probably sit down, Bucky,” Rhodey said softly.

“No. You’re not-” He looked around, trying to find confirmation that he was wrong. Natasha met his gaze and slowly shook her head. “No no _no_ , _don’t_ do this, _please_ -”

“Sit down, Barnes,” Clint said hoarsely. Bucky sat, along with the others.

_Natasha’s hands are shaking_ , Peter noticed dimly. _I’ve never seen them do that before._

“I’m sorry,” Clint was the first one to break the silence. “I . . . listen, Bucky, I-”

“No,” Bucky muttered. “I don’t want to, I can’t-”

“Bucky, c’mon, man-”

“Заткнись! Он не умер, _нет_!” Bucky shouted, slamming his hand down on the coffee table. “He’s so young. He’s just a _kid_ , he’s just-” Bucky’s voice cracked, and Peter felt another stab of pain.

“Я знаю,” Natasha said patiently. “I know, James.”

All of a sudden, a portal formed, and out stepped Dr. Strange wearing pajamas.

“Hello,” He greeted, looking at his phone. “Thor asked me to tell you that-” He cut off abruptly, looking around at all of their faces. “What on earth?” Then his gaze landed on Peter.

His gaze _landed_ on _Peter_.

Dr. Strange frowned.

“I suppose they don’t know you’re standing there?” He said. “It’s considered rude to eavesdrop from the astral realm.”

“You can see me?” Peter asked, feeling a spark of hope.

“What do you mean, ‘I can see you’, of course I can-” A light of realization entered Dr. Strange’s eye. “Ah. You didn’t do this on purpose; someone did this to you. I had heard you were going after some low-grade sorcerers; if I’d realized they had this capability I would’ve gone with you.”

“Who are you talking to?” Clint asked.

“Peter.”

“What?” Rhodey burst out. “What do you mean you’re talking to Peter? You can’t be, he’s . . . Peter’s dead.” Dr. Strange looked at him. And laughed.

“Oh, this is too much,” He sputtered. “You really think-” With a roar, Bucky leaped forward and grabbed Dr. Strange by the shirt collar, slamming him against the wall.

“You bastard,” He snarled. “How dare you fucking laugh, you ублюдок!”

“Bucky, let him go!” Steve called from the doorway. Bucky’s head whipped around, his eyes dark and furious.

“But he-”

“Peter’s alive.”

Silence.

“Pete?” Tony whispered, the first word he’d said since he’d gotten on the quinjet. “He’s . . .”

“Dr. Cho had a look at him,” Steve panted, out of breath. “He doesn’t have a pulse, but his brain activity is still there, like he’s wide awake. We can’t understand it.”

“I can, actually,” Dr. Strange offered dryly from where he was still pinned to the wall. Bucky let him go.

“You can . . .?” Clint said, a glint of hope appearing in his voice.. “Can you . . .?”

“He’s in the astral realm,” Dr. Strange explained patiently “His life force has separated from his body; one of the sorcerers you were up against must’ve done that. I can help him get back, but we need to hurry. If he doesn’t return to his physical form soon, his life force will start to fade.”

Rhodey leapt to his feet. “Show us.”

Dr. Strange looked at Peter.

“Follow us,” He said. “I’ll be able to return you to your body, but you need to follow us back to where your body is.”

“P-peter?” Bucky looked around wildly. “Is he here?”

“Follow me.” Dr. Strange’s voice brooked no argument.

The group staggered to their feet, making their way towards the elevator. Bucky’s eyes kept flitting around, and Tony’s face was still numb and expressionless, Rhodey leading him by the shoulder. Natasha’s hands were still shaking. 

_Normally_ , Peter thought as they squeezed in, _I wouldn’t be able to fit in the elevator with all of them_. Him being incorporeal, however, made the task much easier.

Whirrr . . . 

_Ding_.

“Med Center,” FRIDAY’s cool tone spoke over the intercom. Dr. Strange was the first one out the door.

He led the haggled group swiftly towards the last door on the right. Tony was still looking at the floor. Dr. Strange knocked loudly.

  
“It’s Dr. Strange,” He said. “I can help Peter.” A pause, then the door opened.

“Doctor!” Dr. Cho exclaimed, relief evident in her voice. “Please, come in! I have absolutely no idea how to proceed.” She looked around shrewdly at the others. “The rest of you wait outside.”

“There’s no need,” Dr. Strange said briskly. “It’ll only take a few moments.” Dr. Cho, hesitated, but relented. They filed into the medbay. Bruce was there, hunched over a table.

Bruce.

Oh _no_.

“Was anyone gonna tell me,” He said, voice shaking, “That the kid was dead?” Nat pressed her lips together, and Steve looked pale.

“Bruce . . .” 

“Were you?” Bruce turned around, eyes an eerie green color. “Huh? The kid- Jesus _Christ_ , you thought he was dead and you _didn’t fucking tell me!?”_ His voice distorted on the last word, and he turned away again, hands gripping the table ledge, which shuddered and creaked.

“Bruce,” Natasha said calmly. “Peter’s gonna be alright. Dr. Strange can help him.”

Bruce let out something suspiciously like a sob. “I know, I heard, just . . . dammit. I walked in here, and I saw him, I saw Pete lying there and my heart just . . .” He choked on a groan. “I need to go to my panic room, I’m sorry, I-” He turned and pushed his way past everyone, leaving the door swinging in his wake.

Natasha sighed and followed him, glancing back at the others in apology as she did so.

With them out of the way, Peter could see himself.

It was really weird looking at his own face, Peter decided, observing his own limp body lying on a metal table. Man, I’m glad this’ll be over soon. Bucky paled as he saw Peter’s body, his pallor and blue lips. “Kid. Oh, _kid_.”

“Alright, Mr. Parker,” Dr. Strange put on his doctor voice. “I want you to lie down, exactly in the same position of your body. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Peter obeyed, feeling even more weird than before.

“I’m going to push gently on your chest,” He continued. “And it’ll return you to your body. It will be disorientating for a few seconds, so don’t get up right away. Ready?” Peter nodded. “Okay.” Dr. Strange put a hand over Peter’s chest, and pushed.

Pressure.

A slot clicking into place.

Peter gaped, sparks shooting down his fingertips. He couldn’t, he couldn’t-

He gasped, and his eyes snapped open. His fingers curled briefly and he tried to sit up. A wave of vertigo washed over him and he flopped back down with a groan.

“Easy, kid, easy,” Dr. Strange put a hand on his shoulder, a hand he could actually feel. “I said not to get up right away.”

“Sorry,” Peter rasped. He looked around.

Clint looked like he’d seen a ghost, eyes alight with indescribable _something_. Rhodey’s knees buckled and he grabbed onto the wall, whispering, _“He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay...”_ Steve let out a shuddering breath that ended in a sob, and Tony . . .

Tony looked at the ground, face numb and still.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter tried. He sat up with a wince, blanket falling to one side. “Tony?” Tony didn’t reply. Peter pushed himself up and walked forward, stopping in front of him.

“Hey,” Peter whispered. “I’m okay, Mr. Stark.” Tony mumbled wordlessly, eyes distant. Peter took a breath.

“ _Dad_.”

Tony looked up.

His eye’s met Peter’s.

“P-Petey?” Tony croaked. Peter nodded. His eyes stung.

“I’m okay, Dad,” He said. “I’m alive.” Clint pressed a hand to his mouth, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Tony let out a wordless cry and flung himself at Peter, pulling him into a bear hug.

“You’re alive!” He sobbed. “You’re alive you’re alive you’re _alive_. Oh, kiddo. Oh, _God_.” He clung to Peter tighter and buried his face in his shoulder. Peter’s head fell forward and he felt himself begin to cry as well, shaking with exhaustion and relief.

“‘M sorry,” Peter mumbled, but Tony shook his head.

“Not your fault, kiddo,” He cupped Peter’s face with both hands. “Not your fault, okay?” Peter smiled and nodded, and Tony pulled him in for another hug. Bucky approached them carefully.

“Don’t.” Bucky seemed to be struggling with his words, like he sometimes did after a flashback. Peter stepped back and looked at him, brow furrowed. “No. Mission: Protect. Confirm?” 

Steve smiled sadly. “You scared him a lot, kiddo.” 

“I understand,” Peter replied softly to Bucky. Bucky nodded, seeming satisfied.

“Hey,” Peter turned to see Clint looking at him, eyes drooping wearily. “If you ever actually die, I will resurrect you just to kill you again.” 

Bucky considered Clint’s statement for a moment. “Confirm.”

Peter gaped at him. “You traitor!” 

Clint threw his head back and laughed.

“Does this mean Peter’s okay?” Bruce’s voice sounded from the door. Peter inhaled.

And burst into tears.

“Oh, kiddo,” Tony sighed, pulling him in close. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Peter blubbered, hands grabbing at Tony’s jacket.

“I thought I was dead,” He gasped. “None of you could hear me, an’ I couldn’t touch anything, an’ I just wanted to tell you I was okay!”

“I know, I know,” Tony soothed. “Easy. Let’s get you up to your room, huh? Maybe have some hot chocolate?” Peter nodded and looked around.

“Where’s Doc’er Strange?” He asked tearfully. “I wanted to thank him!” 

“He probably left, Honey,” Dr. Cho said sympathetically. “Tony’s right; you need to rest. You can thank him tomorrow, okay?” 

Tony, led Peter out of the medbay, the rest following after them. Bruce smiled and ruffled his hair as they passed.

Parker Luck, Peter reflected, Isn’t all that bad.

After all, Peter had the best family in the history of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, when he sees that Peter is dead: "Mission failed, we'll get 'em next time."
> 
> Russian Translation + Transliteration:
> 
> Блядь (Blyat): Fuck.
> 
> Заткнись! Он не умер, нет! (Zatknis! On ne umer, nyet!): Shut up! He's not dead, he's not!
> 
> Я знаю (Ya znayu): I know.
> 
> Ублюдок! (Ublyudok!): Motherfucker!
> 
> (Yes, the majority of the Russian I know is swear words, sue me).

**Author's Note:**

> Oof.


End file.
